


Cats Are Creepy

by salvadore



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, cat!Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvadore/pseuds/salvadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark goes to Singapore to talk to Eduardo, but he doesn't get the chance because he turns into a cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats Are Creepy

What should have been a typical Thursday night in Singapore for Eduardo, goes terribly off track when there is a knock at the door in the middle of Eduardo's late dinner. He's alone at the table in his kitchenette and he has his glass of wine raised halfway to his lips when he hears the knock. Eduardo takes a moment to look down at his half eaten dinner.  
  
Whoever is on the other side of the door must have a limited amount of patience because the knock comes again not even a minute later. Eduardo sighs and shoots a morose look at his plate before swallowing back the last mouthful of wine in his glass.  
  
Calling out, “Just a moment,” Eduardo stands up, shoving his chair across the floor. He is halfway to the door when there is a third round of knuckles rapping on the surface of his front door.  
  
Out of habit, a polite smile rises to Eduardo's lips, but it drops quickly when he opens his door to find Mark on his doorstep. Eduardo really shouldn't feel surprised that it only took Mark three months after the settlement to turn up in Singapore, but Eduardo is still caught off guard.  
  
Standing barefoot in the doorway to his apartment, holding the door open with a tightening grip, Eduardo takes Mark in. Mark, in his gray GAP hoodie, with a sagging and barely packed backpack slung over one shoulder. There are bruises under Mark's eyes from too many hours staring at a computer screen without respite. And on his feet are his ever-present fuck-you Adidas. Eduardo's knuckles go white as he tries to keep from throwing the door closed in Mark's face.  
  
And, on top of everything else, it is raining. Of course Mark wouldn't have an umbrella so he's not only standing, unwelcome, in front of Eduardo's door, but he is also shaking a little from the chill.  
  
Mark raises his left hand in a wave and says, “Hey Wardo,” and Eduardo's self-control snaps. He promptly slams the front door in Mark's face. Thunder crashes outside, but Eduardo decides he does not care.  
  
He pads back toward his kitchenette, the furthest point from the front door, and he doesn't think about Mark for the rest night. Not even when the rain pours down in a pounding beat on the roof.  
  
The next morning when he sets off for work, Eduardo finds Mark sitting on his doorstep, soaked through and clutching his backpack to his chest. Eduardo walks past him without a word. He does the same thing when he gets home, slipping into his apartment with only a frown to show he notices Mark at all. It rains again that night and it's harder for Eduardo to ignore that Mark is still outside. He tries reading, he tries drinking, until finally he just crawls into bed. Eduardo covers his head with his pillow and just hopes that Mark isn't there in the morning.  
  
But he is. Still clutching his backpack and looking drained of all energy as his chin bobs towards his chest under the weight of his soaked hair. When the front door clicks shut behind Eduardo, Mark's head jerks up and his eyes go wide in an attempt to look alert. Eduardo grinds his teeth a little as he reopens the door.  
  
“You get one night,” Eduardo stipulates, begrudgingly. He holds the door open while Mark shuffles in under Eduardo's arm. He doesn't bother telling Mark where the towels are, sure as he is that Mark will snoop around either way. So Eduardo goes to work with a tingling sensation at the back of his neck and trying to stem off a pity party.  
  
When Eduardo gets home from work the lights are off in the apartment and Mark is curled up on the couch. He's wearing the same clothes, though they look dry now, and he has his head resting in his arms. Eduardo moves quietly to put his coat and his bag away, and just Mark snores softly through it all. Even when Eduardo accidentally knocks all of his pots and pans together in the kitchen. Eduardo moves slowly and cooks in a half light. From the sink in the kitchen, Eduardo can see the back of the couch, where Mark has to be drooling on his cushions.  
  
The next morning, Eduardo expects to have to usher Mark out, but he is gone before Eduardo has gotten out of the shower.  
  
\--  
  
Eduardo goes out drinking with a few co-workers after the end of the business day. It keeps him distracted from how easily Mark gave up. It nags at him. But with enough alcohol in him to make Eduardo feel warm, and the easy flow of conversation with his associates keeps thoughts about Mark sequestered to the back of his mind.  
  
It is after midnight when Eduardo fumbles his way back into his apartment. It's quiet and still, no rising backs or snoring sounds, and with the door closed the sound of the city doesn't even penetrate the stillness.  
  
There is a squirmy feeling in the pit of Eduardo's stomach that can't be blamed on the alcohol or food poisoning. Pulling his cellphone from his coat pocket, Eduardo flicks through his contact list to the names beginning with "C," then down several entries to CHRIS HUGHES. Eduardo pauses with his finger on the green button. His phone is asking if he wants to call the number and Eduardo _does_. But he really, really shouldn't. Eduardo selects the number.  
  
The phone rings three times before Chris picks up.  
  
“Chris Hughes speaking,” Chris answers, sounding distracted. It is still working hours in Palo Alto, so Eduardo bets he is catching Chris at the office[ _s of Facebook_ ].  
  
“Did he get home alright,” Eduardo asks. He doesn't qualify that it is Mark he is asking after, not that there is anyone else who would make an unscheduled flight to Singapore without giving any notice. At least, Eduardo and Chris only know one person who would.  
  
“Did he leave already,” Chris asks no longer in a distracted tone. The scritch-scratch of pen on paper that Eduardo was hearing in the background comes to a stop. Eduardo doesn't want have this conversation. For one thing, it is too easy to start talking to Chris about Mark and Eduardo is of the mind that talking about Mark should feel like pulling teeth.  
  
“He left early this morning,” Eduardo says.  
  
“Maybe he went directly home,” Chris says absentmindedly. It is a different sort of distracted. As if Chris is peeking through the glass walls of his office and trying to assess whether or not Mark managed to sneak into the building without Chris finding out. Eduardo doesn't need to ask to know that there is a frown on Chris' face. It's a familiar frown with a well known trigger; Eduardo can picture it with his eyes closed, that's how often he has seen it over the years.  
  
“Yeah,” Eduardo starts to say. It's out of character and neither of them really believes Mark would go straight home. Eduardo frowns and adds, “He could still be in the air.”  
  
Then Eduardo trips over on of the straps on Mark's backpack.  
  
“Hang on,” he amends. He peers closely at the backpack, all but the one strap stuffed between Eduardo's couch and his arm chair. Eduardo frowns at it and leans down, tucking his phone against his shoulder as he pulls the bag from between the two pieces of furniture. It's heavy, and when Eduardo opens it to look inside he finds Mark's laptop and a change of underwear.  
  
“Chris,” Eduardo starts to say, drawing the syllables of the blond's name out. He hears Chris ask him what's going on but Eduardo isn't really listening. Instead, he is looking at the pair of jeans and Adidas flip-flops which are sitting innocently on the carpet, where just moments before they were hidden beneath Mark's backpack. Eduardo's throat goes dry. Under the jeans is a t-shirt that has to be Mark's and an abandoned pair of underwear. Eduardo doesn't want to think about Mark running around his apartment naked, possibly having hidden himself in the walls or something.  
  
Great, Eduardo thinks, now he is starting to think like Sean Parker.  
  
Eduardo holds all of the uncovered articles of clothing aloft and pivots. He scans the walls as he says, less than calmly, “Chris we _may_ have a problem.”  
  
“What's going on, Eduardo?”  
  
Eduardo is in the middle of coming up with an excuse that doesn't sound as crazy as, _my ex-best friend is in my apartment somewhere, naked,_ when something wiggles it's way out from under the couch. It's soft against Eduardo's bare feet and slides passed them before stumbling under Eduardo's coffee table. Eduardo gapes at the thing, the very small cat, as it yawns widely up at him like it hasn't a care in the world.  
  
“Chris,” Eduardo says, aware of the way his voice cracks at the end of the name. “I'm going to have to call you back.”  
  
He doesn't wait for a reply before ending the call. Tossing the phone behind him onto the couch Eduardo gives his full attention to the cat. It's small, maybe ten inches from nose to it's haunches and the tail is another four inches in length, thin and lying still on the carpet. And then there are the wide blue eyes that it uses to stare up, unblinkingly, at Eduardo.  
  
“Mark,” Eduardo asks. The thing is smaller than Eduardo's foot and the situation is making Eduardo feel hysterical. The cat blinks then seems to lose all interest in Eduardo. It stretches out it's front paws and drags it's stomach against the ground as it kneads at the carpet. Eduardo just watches, dumbfounded as the cat finally straightens, then starts wandering out of the living toward the hall.  
  
Eduardo follows it with large, imploring eyes.  
  
“Mark,” Eduardo asks again the cat rubs it's cheek against the corner of the wall across from Eduardo's bedroom. The small cat (and maybe he should be calling it a kitten?), gives him a sideways glance before stumbling into Eduardo's bedroom. It rubs it's cheek against the corner of the door frame as it goes, reminding Eduardo of something he learned a long time ago. Cat's rub their cheeks against things and people to mark them as their territory.  
  
“If you really are Mark,” Eduardo starts to accuse. But he loses his ire as he watches the tiny thing leap toward the bed, then struggle to clamber up the sheets. Moving toward the bed, Eduardo gets a hand  beneath the thing's belly, and he tosses the cat the rest of the way onto the bed. For his trouble, Eduardo gets a whisper growl and a swatting of tiny paws. Eduardo rolls his eyes, stepping back with his hands out in surrender.  
  
On the bed the kitten is kneading it's (his _maybe_ ), paws on Eduardo's very expensive sheets. Eduardo watches and muses that it can't be Mark. Mark has red-brown hair and the cat is gray, with maybe a bit of tan, but more gray than anything. With dark gray marking but definitely –  
  
Like Mark's GAP hoodie. Which was mysteriously missing from the rest of Mark's abandoned clothing.  
  
Eduardo rushes back to his phone and scrolls to the letter "D." The first words from his lips when Dustin picks up are, “Hypothetically speaking, if Mark were turned into a cat what should I do?”  
  
\--  
  
Eduardo reminds himself to, at a later date, either send Dustin an amazing thank-you gift or have him checked out by a psychiatrist. It was honestly too easy to convince Dustin that Mark had turned into a cat. But then again, Eduardo is extremely thankful for Dustin's offer to look up a list of things Eduardo needs to buy if he is going to keep cat-mark.  
  
And he _is_ going to have to. The first thing Dustin uncovered was that Eduardo absolutely _cannot_ put Mark on a plane or ship him back to the offices of Facebook. Something about Mark being placed in quarantine for six months to make sure he isn't carrying diseases.  
  
As soon as Dustin says this to him Eduardo scoffs. Directing a dark look at Mark, who rolls over on his back to stare widely up at Eduardo. Eduardo says, “Fucking figures that I can't get rid of you.”  
  
“You can't take him the vet either,” Dustin pipes up. “I know he's an asshole but you can't get him fixed, that would be cruel.”  
  
“Oh god, shut up Dustin!”  
  
Dustin acts like he doesn't hear him, continuing on into a monologue about what could possibly go wrong if Mark was given medicine meant for animals. Just when Dustin starts to shout about how Eduardo shouldn't let Mark out of his sight, Eduardo hangs up on him. There is a headache building behind Eduardo's eyes and it forces him to sag back against the wall opposite of his bed. Part of it is the alcohol he consumed, but it isn't the biggest contributing factor. He doesn't want to deal with the list of cat stuff Dustin is planning to e-mail him or with having to get up and buy things like cat food and a scratching post.  
  
Mark meows at him from the bed. When Eduardo looks over, Mark curls himself into a ball and tilts his head at an odd angle, his chin pointing toward the ceiling. Eduardo squints down at him. Mark probably hasn't eaten since before he left Palo Alto, Eduardo realizes as Mark rolls around on the bed, stretching his paws and nails along the sheets.  
  
“At least I can feed _you_ chicken.”  
  
Mark's head tips back around and he gives Eduardo a look that is clearly unamused. But that doesn't stop him from following Eduardo to the kitchen, or from eating the reheated chicken that Eduardo puts on a plate for him.  
  
\--  
  
In the morning Eduardo doesn't get the chance to pretend the night before was all a dream. Not when Mark is roaming up and down the hall at five am keening for Eduardo to open the door to the bedroom. Eduardo groans, dragging a pillow over his head and trying to suffocate himself so he can't hear the continuous _meowmeowmeoooowmeow_ coming from right outside his door. He doesn't last more than ten minutes before he tosses the pillow to the floor and throws himself out of the bed.  
  
“What,” Eduardo shrieks as he jerks the door open and stares down at Mark. Mark immediately stops making sounds and sits down on his haunches, staring at Eduardo. His tail slides in a wave against the floor and he doesn't blink, but at least the last thing isn't completely out of the ordinary.  
  
Several seconds pass with the two of them staring each other down, where Eduardo tries to flatten his bed head and slowly slides a hand to cover the bulge in his brief's (because, oh god, he could be staring up at Eduardo's penis). Until, finally, Eduardo grits out the question a second time.  
  
Mark meows at him in response, and Eduardo rolls his eyes.  
  
“Please, tell me more,” he says sarcastically.  
  
Mark's ears, which are too large for his head, swivel. Then they flatten down and Mark's eyes narrow. Mark turns around and pads down the hall, tail waving as he goes. Eduardo stands staring as Mark turns the corner and disappears into the kitchen. Eduardo waits a moment for Mark to reappear at the corner before turning around and wandering back to his bed, slamming the door as he goes. The bed and blankets seem to hug him as Eduardo sinks into it. He moans and shifts around settling in for three hours more of sleep.  
  
He gets five minutes before he hears _meowmeowmeow_ start up all over again.  
  
“Fuck,” Eduardo groans into the pillow. He gets up again, taking the blankets with him this time, draping them around his shoulders like a cloak. He glares down at Mark when he opens the door, and Mark just stares back up, innocently.  
  
“Fine,” Eduardo says, as if Mark had actually made an argument. The blankets drag across the floor as Eduardo leads the way to the kitchen.  
  
“Come on then,” he calls over his shoulder. Mark keens at him and jogs to catch up.  
  
\--  
  
After several cups of coffee, Eduardo goes out to pick up the cat stuff. On the way to Eduardo slides his phone open and closed, weighing the merits of calling Chris to commiserate. But that would involve explaining that Mark has turned into a cat and, even though Dustin believed him, the chances that Chris will believe him are extremely low. Eduardo sighs, sliding his phone shut with a click and then tucking it into his pocket. He leans his head against the window of the cab he is riding in and waits for the cab to arrive at the pet shop he Google-d at six am.  
  
One of the pet-shop employees takes the list from Eduardo and systematically helps Eduardo pick out a food bowl and toys and a scratching post. Eduardo tries to protest the last one, but the girl fixes him with a look and asks how much he paid for his couch. With an impending threat on his furniture, Eduardo stops protesting and let's the girl talk him into a very overpriced block of wood with carpet stapled to it.  
  
During check-out, Eduardo feels as though he has forgotten something important. But he is already laden down with toy mouses and bags of both kitten-chow and a kibble used to ween kitten's into eating the cat-chow.  
  
Eduardo hopes that Mark doesn't stay a cat that long.  
  
\--  
  
Back at the apartment, Eduardo finds the far corner of his bathroom floor has become a toilet for Mark. Eduardo winces at the smell of cat piss and automatically looks for Mark, but he is nowhere to be found.  
  
And it suddenly clicks, what was eating at the back of Eduardo's mind while he was in the store.  
  
“I forgot to buy cat litter,” Eduardo says to the empty room.  
  
It's when he is on his hands and knees scrubbing at the tile that Eduardo finds Mark, curled up and looking somehow more wide-eyed than before at Eduardo from where he is hiding behind the toilet. Eduardo feels bad, Mark looks small and the way he sinks back against the wall when Eduardo reaches for him says volumes. Even if Mark isn't fully aware of what he has become, he is capable of being embarrassed.  
  
It takes a can of tuna, that Eduardo picks up when he runs out for litter and a litter box, to get Mark to come out from behind the toilet. When Mark stops eating, Eduardo picks him up before he can scurry back behind the toilet again. Mark gives a miserable whine as he is held aloft and Eduardo just doesn't know what to do. So he holds Mark out in front of him and looks at him, until Mark's back legs start to kick in an effort to be put down.  
  
Eduardo doesn't give Mark what he wants. Instead, Eduardo cradles Mark to his chest, scratching behind Mark's ears until he can feel Mark's body vibrating as he purrs.  
  
\--  
  
It turns out Eduardo doesn't have to call Chris back because Chris calls him first. Eduardo has known Mark is a cat for at least twenty-four hours, though Mark might have been a cat longer than that, when Chris calls. Eduardo is sitting on his couch, watching Mark play with a two-inch toy mouse. From the width of Mark's irises and the way he is rolling over and over on the carpet, the mouse probably has catnip in it.  
  
When the phone starts ringing, Eduardo leans over toward the coffee to reach it without taking his eyes off Mark. He doesn't check the caller id before he thumbs the answer button.  
  
“Please tell me you didn't kill, Mark,” Chris says. before Eduardo gets a chance to say 'hello.'  
  
“I didn't kill him.” Eduardo sighs and adds, “He's been here, actually.”  
  
“The whole time?” Chris asks, sounding incredulous. Eduardo doesn't even bother being irritated with Chris' tone. He just says 'yes' as Mark kicks the mouse under the couch. Mark sits up, eyes locked on the dark and small space beneath the couch. Eduardo pulls his feet up and frowns at Mark, whose tail is flicking back and forth against the floor with a thapp-ing sound.  
  
“He's turned into a cat, if you can believe that,” Eduardo admits as Mark throws himself fast and hard at the space where the mouse disappeared to and promptly gets stuck.  
  
Mark whines, starting high pitched and getting lower as he continues to push against the carpet without getting free. Eduardo watches the mostly gray tale whip about at a furious pace. Either things at Facebook have gotten to Chris or Chris really thinks Eduardo is a dick, whatever the reason, Eduardo is mildly surprised to find he has been hung up on. Eduardo shrugs it off though, tossing the phone to the opposite end of the couch and settling in to see if Mark can manage to get himself free.  
  
\--  
  
As a cat, Mark still has a knack for applying all of his attention on a single thing. As a cat, though, the thing he focuses most of his attention on are birds. In the spans of a day, Mark will run at the sliding glass door in Eduardo's bedroom at least four times in hot pursuit.  
  
Often, Eduardo stands in his doorway watching, and laughing at Mark.  
  
\--  
  
Chris calls back three days later, ready to listen, but Eduardo is too busy to talk. When he had come in the front door with dinner he _thought_ Mark might have slipped past him in the doorway and gotten outside, but he has spent the better part of an hour checking his apartment top to bottom first.  
  
“Hello,” Eduardo answers, voice tight and frantic as he digs his free hand into his hair. His coffee table is over-turned and for the third time he is rushing over to drop to his knees and peer under the couch.  
  
“Hey, Wardo. It's Chris.”  
  
“Chris, this really isn't a good time.”  
  
“I just need to ask about what you said the other night -”  
  
“About Mark being a cat. Which he is. A cat. Seriously, this is not a good time.”  
  
“I talked to Dustin, and he says you are serious.”  
  
“I am. And I've lost him,” Eduardo says as he slides into the kitchen, leaving marks on the tile with his nice loafers. He throws all of the cabinets open in reckless abandon, praying that just maybe, the last time he checked the kitchen Mark wandered inside an open cabinet and was shut it. Unfortunately there is a lack of gray fur balls amongst the canned vegetables. On the other end of the line Chris is beginning to protest, diplomatically trying to plow through Eduardo's absentminded mumbling, but Eduardo hangs up on him mid-sentence. He throws the phone carelessly aside and rushes the front door.  
  
Eduardo finds Mark outside, curled on a patch of fake grass that has been put down around a real tree. Mark looks up at him, tail going back-and-forth idly as he watches Eduardo's approach. He looks carefree, except, when Eduardo is within arm length, Mark tenses. His tail goes still and his ears swivel in a way that Eduardo finds suspicious. Eduardo reaches a hand out and Mark begins to spring away.  
  
“Oh no you don't,” Eduardo shrieks, grabbing for Mark before the cat can get away. Scooping Mark up, Eduardo lifts him to eye level. Mark gives a whine that turns into a deep, hoarse growl as he glowers down at Eduardo.  
  
“Don't you _dare_ growl at me, Mark Zuckerberg,” Eduardo warns. He tucks Mark under his arm and carries him back up the stairs to the apartment. Nails dig into his skin and Mark claws at his shirt in an attempt to back out of Eduardo's hold. Eduardo just holds on tighter, not feeling at all sympathetic for Mark.  
  
Inside the apartment, Eduardo kicks the door shut behind them and then drops Mark unceremoniously to the floor. Mark lands on his feet and then shakes his head. His ears make flapping noises and he nearly falls over from the motion. To hide the near tumble Mark lifts one of his front paws to his mouth, cleaning it while Eduardo stares down at him.  
  
Eduardo waits for Mark to look up at him, but the cat never does. Instead, Mark sets his paw down and walks toward the kitchen, as if he owns the apartment and all of the items therein. It's infuriating, and baffling, and it makes Eduardo pull at his hair. For the first time in a long time, Eduardo wishes he could talk to Mark. He wants human Mark back so he can at least shake him by the shoulders and know that Mark is listening. Even if he doesn't want to.  
  
Eventually Eduardo follows Mark to the kitchen where he sits at the table, watching Mark sit in front on the windowsill above the sink, squeaking every time a bird passes by. His head following their flight and his tail moving in quick, excited motions.  
  
\--  
  
Eduardo Skypes with Chris later that evening. He can tell Chris didn't believe a word about Mark being a cat, and is irritated with hearing about it, by the pinch of his mouth. Before Chris can say anything or use any sort of tone, Eduardo lifts his pointer finger to say one minute and disappears to the floor. He crawls across the carpet looking for Mark.  
  
Mark, even as a cat, hates being touched without provoking the interaction. So as soon as Eduardo gets his fingers around Mark's middle, Mark begins to squirm, making deep groaning and growling sounds as Eduardo holds him aloft with his hands beneath Mark's front legs.  
  
When Eduardo holds Mark in front of the camera, Chris' frown changes and deepens.  
  
Mark meows at them both, trying to whip his head around to bite Eduardo's hand.  
  
Finally Chris sighs and says, “Walk me through what happened.”  
  
\--  
  
Choosing to believe Eduardo is something Chris comes to regret. Mark, as it turns out, is just as much of a brat as a cat as he is a human. And he makes Eduardo forget about the twelve-hour time difference between Palo Alto and Singapore.  
  
\--  
  
“'ello?” Chris mumbles as he answers the phone. It is the middle of the night in Palo Alto and Chris could stand to sleep through the entire night.  
  
“He won't stop staring at me, Chris!”  
  
“Hey Wardo.”  
  
Eduardo makes and irritated sound.  
  
“He doesn't even blink!”  
  
“Then close your door.” Chris' words are muffled further by the way he wiggles against the bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back to sleep in.  
  
“If I close my door he stands outside of it and just cries!”  
  
Chris rolls his eyes, and pulls his phone away from his ear. He can still hear Eduardo ranting though, something about Mark being more talkative as a cat than as a person. Unfortunately, Chris is half-asleep and just doesn't care. So he hangs up on Eduardo, turns the ringer off and drops his phone on the floor beside the bed.  
  
\--  
  
After the first few weeks of having Mark in his apartment Eduardo gives up on casual sex and jacking off. It is as if Mark _knows_ when Eduardo is feeling horny because he shows up and ends up on the foot of the bed, staring at Eduardo. It doesn't matter if Eduardo closes the door or not, because Mark has figured out how to get the door open. He doesn't know if it is a cat-thing or a Mark-thing, but if anyone could figure out how to get around not having thumbs, Mark could.  
  
The first time, Eduardo had looked up from the bed to find Mark sitting on the floor giving himself a bath. The bedroom door was wide open and Eduardo's face had gone hot. Eduardo had felt dirty and he could swear that Mark was grinning at him.  
  
To make things all the more complicated, Eduardo had started thinking about Mark- human Mark- _that_ way, which was something he had thought he was done with when he was twenty. So, even when Mark isn't around, Eduardo still feels like he is being watched. And that Mark is possibly capable of reading his mind.  
  
Eduardo's face goes hot at the thought.  
  
\--  
  
One morning, Eduardo wakes up to find Mark sitting on his chest. He squints at Mark, less than pleased with the weight and with the time of morning Mark thinks he should be awake at. Still, Eduardo just shoves Mark off of him and heads for the kitchen. The coffee maker is making hissing sounds and at Eduardo's side, Mark is moving his legs in leaping motions to keep up with Eduardo. Glancing over his shoulder to smile at Mark, Eduardo watches as Mark leaps at his legs with his front legs outstretched. There is a split second where Eduardo could swear the way Mark wrapped his legs around Eduardo's was Mark doing the best job he could, as a cat, to hug Eduardo's leg. Then Mark walks past him toward his food bowl.  
  
Eduardo falters. His chest feels like it has a hole in it, one that aches and feels like it is growing. Watching Mark walk away makes the hole widen and as mad as he still is at Mark, the real Mark, it's easier to be mad at him from a world away, when he isn't able to mother Mark.  
  
\--  
  
Eduardo misses Mark most on the mornings when he wakes up to find Mark sprawled out in a thin line, looking like a ferret, on the left side of the bed. Mark will make a snuffling sound and roll around to face Eduardo, but he won't wake up. When he does, it is with a yawn so wide that it splits his face in half and his tail starts moving immediately after.  
  
Watching Mark reminds Eduardo of nights in Kirkland, watching Mark droop over his laptop after three straight days without sleep. Or of the time he passed out face first on the common room couch and Dustin had wanted to draw on Mark's face. Eduardo had spent half the night sitting against the couch and keeping sentry over Mark to prevent that from happening.  
  
When he thinks about that, it makes Eduardo act petulantly. He eyes Mark and says, "That used to be my side of the bed until you got into this mess."  
  
Mark just yawns at him, before looking away.  
  
\--  
  
In the afternoon, nearly two months after Mark showed up in the rain, Eduardo leaves the office at lunch time to check on Mark. On the way, he picks up a can of tuna and a take-away salad. It's routine now, to go home at lunch and make sure Mark is using his scratching post instead of putting new holes in Eduardo's couch.  
  
It has also become habit for Eduardo to call out, “I'm home.”  
  
Eduardo sets his briefcase down beside the front door. He drops his keys on the table inside the door and toes his shoes off as he passes the couch. In the kitchen, Eduardo sets the food down on the table. All the while, Eduardo frowns, his eyebrows drawn as he looks for Mark. Usually Mark would be under foot by now, pawing at Eduardo's dress pants and getting gray fur everywhere. But he's not. He isn't asleep under the coffee table and when Eduardo stands staring at the couch with his hands on his hips, Mark doesn't shimmy out from under it.  
  
Frowning deeper in confusion Eduardo pivots and heads for his bedroom, thinking that Mark might be asleep on his bed. Turns out, he is. Except, when Eduardo eases the door open it isn't to the sight of ears flipping up and Mark jerking his cat head toward the door as he makes a grunting sound. Instead human Mark is curled on the bed with his back to the door.  
  
In particular, a half-naked Mark with his arms wrapped up in his GAP hoodie and his bare ass pointing toward the door, is snoring softly against the covers. Eduardo tilts his head a bit, taking in the sight of Mark's ass. It is simultaneously the palest and most beautiful ass that has ever graced Eduardo's gaze. Though that could be the relief talking.  
  
“Oh shit,” Mark mumbles. His face flushes pink as he scrambles to pull the hem of his sweater down to conceal his dick. Eduardo reacts without thinking, stumbling over to the bed emitting what are meant to be reassuring sounds. He's already jumped up onto the bed beside Mark before he realizes he has his hands open and reaching for Mark. Mark flinches back minutely, out of shock, but Eduardo doesn't let it deter him.  
  
Instead, he covers Mark's cheeks with both hands and says, “You have no idea how fucking glad I am to see you.”  
  
Mark squeaks. When he calls Eduardo's name it is filled with confusion.  
  
“Wardo?”  
  
Eduardo smiles brightly and rubs one thumb over one of Mark's cheekbones. The dark bruises that were beneath his eyes are gone, the many hours Mark spent sleeping proving to do some good.  
  
Eduardo says, “We're going to have a serious talk about us and what happened with Facebook. But not now.”  
  
Eduardo moves his other thumb and rubs both of Mark's cheek bones. “I brought lunch back, so we are going to go sit down and eat it. Ok?”  
  
Mark still looks as if he thinks Eduardo has gone around the bend, but he's smiling with both dimples showing and that is encouraging enough for Eduardo. He pulls Mark up off the bed and draws him out into the hall, pant-less as he is.  
  
And the tuna Eduardo bought doesn't go to waste.


End file.
